


supernova

by radicalVirgo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Insomniac Daichi, Light Angst, M/M, Suga smokes a lot, There's something really not ok with Suga, They go on 3AM walks, asanoya makes a cameo, but it's never explicitly stated, but very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3462908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radicalVirgo/pseuds/radicalVirgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Daichi sees him, he sits on the bottom step of the stairs on the way to Block C, with a smile so wide it could tear him in half.</p>
<p>His hair reminds Daichi of the stormy, isabelline sky in the middle of November and Daichi can't help but grin back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	supernova

 

The first time Daichi sees him, he sits on the bottom step of the stairs on the way to Block C, with a smile so wide it could tear him in half.

His hair reminds Daichi of the stormy, isabelline sky in the middle of November and Daichi can't help but grin back. Somehow, the stack of textbooks he agreed to help his professor with seems both lighter and heavier at the same time.

“Have a good day!” he hears as he leaves the stranger's line of sight. A warm feeling pools at the bottom of his feet, softly spreading to the rest of the body. It was going to be a good day.

The stranger wasn't exactly wrong. Daichi gets a 78% for his last test and a pat on the back from his classmate. His mother calls him, telling him she misses him; he replies with a gentle reminder he's been “here for two years already”.

And even though nothing bad happens throughout the day, he can't fall asleep at night.

Not that it was anything out of the ordinary, it's been years since he's had more than a week of good sleep.

Tossing and turning, he eventually gives up on resting, lying helplessly on his stomach and regarding the digits of the clock on his bedside table with a weary look. 2:29 AM.

His shoe-sized bedroom is surrounded in stillness, interrupted only by the ticking of the clock. It drills into the back of Daichi's head and he can't stand thinking that he should be recharging.

Fuck that.

He throws his legs off the bed; the cold floor bites into the bottom of his feet and he winces involuntarily. Funnily enough, his hands feel too warm as they search for his trousers and wallet. He pulls them on without a second thought and looks around for the jacket.

Insomnia – at this time it sounds more like a sentence than a diagnosis. As a result, he drags himself across the university grounds every day with dark circles under his eyes and a sleepy smile on his face. The other students treat him with coffee if they begin to feel too bad; he can't remember whether he's ever accepted it. Perhaps once.

As Daichi walks out of the dorms, a cold breeze pierces his face and neck. He shudders. Maybe he should have taken a scarf, but who even cares if all you want to do is just collapse from tiredness.

The street is lit only by a couple dim street lamps as he walks along the pavement, kicking small pebbles in the way. They ricochet off his feet and into the ground in a series of faint knocks and even then, Daichi feels they're too loud.

He could text Kuroo about it, but on the other hand, all the other would do is just accuse him of sending drunken texts in the middle of the night. Daichi didn't feel up for a round of public humiliation. Yet again.

The streets turn into labyrinths of neon clubs and holes in the pavement and that's when he meets him the second time.

There he is. If Daichi felt more poetic, he'd call the man standing halfway down the road a walking enigma – who on earth smiles at complete strangers and goes for walks in the middle of the night?

The man doesn't seem to be walking though – a strange aura of motionlessness around him is only interrupted by the tip of his cigarette sending smoke up into the atmosphere. A whirled strand of consciousness. Daichi's personal feeling of wakefulness.

There's no doubt it's him, the same dove-like hair hugs his face, the same thin jacket hangs carelessly on his shoulders. He seems to have more sense than Daichi though, there's a thick scarf wrapped around his neck.

“It's you,” the man says in between the carefully blown string of smoke. He turns his eyes towards Daichi.

He doesn't know what it is exactly, the gentleness of his smile, the soft line of his jaw or the eyes – dark and enticing under the dull glow of the lamp above them. Something Daichi can't identify is pulling right at him, pulling and suppressing.

“Huh? Oh yeah, it's me,” Daichi stammers, his voice a diminuendo of force. He immediately begins to curse the light – the silver-haired man can probably see his blush.

Shit. He looks entertained.

“What's wrong?” Daichi asks, finding it in him to flash a smile. “People don't usually take walks at three in the morning without a good reason.”

“Could say the say about you.” The man isn't even looking at him, and instead begins to contemplate something in the distance. A soft, effulgent smile spreads across his face in gentle waves. “What's wrong with you?”

Daichi shoves his hands into his jacket. “Just can't sleep.”

The man takes a long drag of his cigarette. Inhale. Release. His hands fidget as he throws the butt on the concrete and grinds it with the heel of his trainer.

“Let's take a walk, why don't we?”

They begin walking in silence, foot after foot, the night consciously spreading its black wings around them. Carefully, their steps begin to synchronise, pairs of worn trainers equally fast, the strides just as long.

And then, out of nowhere, the man beside him begins to laugh. It's a peculiar one, Daichi notes, the sort of laugh you get that is sound and reassuring.

“Joy, that's the thing, right?” the man asks, looking up into the sky; its tenebrific quality embraces them both. Daichi finds himself nodding.

“Sugawara Koushi, if you were wondering.”

It's Daichi's turn to laugh. “Yeah, I was.”

When he stumbles into his room at five in the morning, it seems like the first time Daichi feels truly awake without any sleep at all.

He relishes it.

* * *

  


The next day continues to pass like any other Friday at the university grounds. Daichi goes to his 8AM lecture, and for some reason drags Kuroo along with him.

“Hey, Daichi, couldn't you just sign in for me?” Kuroo whines as they climb up the stairs to the hall. He winces at the sun as his fingers rub at his temples.

“It won't do you harm to go in every once in a while yourself,” Daichi reminds him, the voice collected. Kuroo regards him with a beaten look. “Anyway, where were you last night?”

“Some party, don't even know,” Kuroo admits, pushing his bag further up his shoulder. “Their liquor was immense though.”

“I can see that, you look like shit.” Daichi comments, giving the latter a steady look.

“Aw, that's not nice, is it now, Daichi-chan? Especially for someone whose eye-bags get consistently darker every day.”

The hall seems less crowded as usual, the students scattered around the place. They sit at the back, Kuroo immediately leans away from the table on the back legs of the old, rickety chair.

Daichi takes out his notepad, regarding the room with a weary look. He watches a guy at the far side of the wall open an energy drink and pour it into his coffee. A guy with isabelline, dove-like hair.

“Suga-san?” Daichi mumbles, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows.

“Huh?” Kuroo snaps out of his daze; his chair lands on all four legs with a slam. Daichi doesn't react.

“You know that guy?” Daichi points to where Suga's sat. He watches with the corner of his eye as Suga chokes on his drink and he smirks.

“Who, the silver-head?” Kuroo asks, a certain twang of curiosity in his voice. He leans forward, over the table to get a better look. “Oh yeah, he's a friend of that guy whose party I've gone to, seen him around a few times.”

“Didn't know he's and avid party-goer,” Daichi says, dragging his words lazily. “Doesn't look like one, that's for sure.”

Kuroo grins. “I don't think he's got that much of a choice, to be honest, they're roomies.”

Without thinking, Daichi tears a page from his notebook and rolls it into a ball. It's okay, the professor isn't here yet. Suga shouldn't get too angry, should he?

Kuroo watches him, bewildered. “Suddenly a troublemaker? Didn't peg you down for one.”

“Oh, shut up,” Daichi answers, his smile somehow more mischievous as he aims the throw. “I don't see a problem.”

Aim. Throw.

The crumpled up ball slams perfectly against Suga's ear and lands with a quiet thump on his working space. He turns around, confused, until he notices them – Daichi and Kuroo waving to him feverishly and Suga's face lights up in an resplendent grin like the sun amidst the stormy clouds. He shoves his notepad into a bright orange shoulder-bag and hurries to their table.

“'Sup, Sugawara-san? Life treating you well?” Kuroo asks, leaning away from the table again as Suga takes a seat next to Daichi. Suga nods attentively, laying his things out in front of him.

“Can't complain too much, you know,” he says, his voice croaky. He takes care placing his coffee cup on the table top and sits down. “Would be better if I got a chance to sleep though.”

“You're telling me about it,” Daichi laughs, watching the professor enter the hall and try to set up the projector.

Soon they're engrossed in the lecture, scribbling notes down. Daichi finds it moderately interesting, perhaps literature wasn't that bad of a degree choice after all. At one point, he turns to look at Kuroo, whose hangover seems to be effectively making him sleepier and sleepier. Without a word, Suga slides his drink past Daichi. Kuroo grabs it and drinks half of it in one go.

“Yay! Thanks man,” he mumbles before reaching back for his pen. Suga lifts his thumbs up.

Soon after, Daichi feels a piece of paper sliding into his hand. He unrolls it under the table.

'You coming with Kuroo tonight? :)'

The notes and the lecture are soon forgotten as his pen shakily scribbles a response.

'Sure, it beats freezing to death in the middle of the night'

Daichi passes the note back, just to hear a quiet giggle that makes his insides twist.

'See you there, then :)'

And underneath, a number.

Daichi finds himself thinking that morning lectures aren't that bad. He should tell Kuroo about it.

* * *

 

The evening feels raw and on edge, as it approaches the horizon. The sky seems to hurry to turn darker, more enticing and voluptuous and Daichi watches Kuroo step into their shared room with a bottle of vodka.

“Just one?” Daichi asks, half serious, half playful. Kuroo scoffs at him, placing the bottle on his night stand.

“Hey! I'm not made of money, you know!”

Daichi begins to gather his things as Kuroo yawns and stretches on his bed. The covers are undone and messy, but the latter doesn't seem to care too much about it.

“Hey, Daichi, how did you even meet Sugawara then?” he asks suddenly as Daichi begins to put his shoes on.

Daichi's fingers tangle themselves in the shoelaces as he tries to tie the knot.

“We met on a walk,” he spits out, undoing the laces again. “I couldn't sleep, so I went out.”

“Gee, you sound like an old man,” Kuroo whines, staring at him from his bed. “Didn't know you take midnight strolls. Get yourself a dog to walk next time.”

Daichi rolls his eyes, smirking. The shoes are tied.

“That impatient to see your beloved Suga-san?” Kuroo coos, jumping off the bed, already dressed. Daichi chokes on his spit.

“I might get jealous, watch out!” Kuroo continues, looking for the keys to the room. Daichi raises his hand – they dangle on his fingers and Kuroo sticks his tongue out.

“I'll complain to Kenma if you don't shut it,” Daichi warns him, throwing the keys across. The latter catches them without hesitation and laughs.

“I'd like to see you try,” Kuroo taunts.

* * *

  


The party is really loud, Daichi notes once they're finally there. The rooms are spacious, but something about them makes him feel uncomfortable. Would Suga really prefer this type of space over the quiet walk?

Kuroo had left him with the bottle of vodka he bought and told him to 'have some fun'.

Daichi scoffs, holding onto the bottle for dear life.

The music quickly builds up to a headache, a certain pulsing of the temples which soon begins to irritate him. Every pulse of bass strikes the brain in a tumult of piercing pain and after a short while he takes a massive swig from the bottle he had with him.

He quickly scans the crowd, but he can't see Suga. Maybe he walked out again, for another walk, mysterious, with his pack of thin cigarettes and a leather jacket? Daichi giggles, he can't see Suga in one of those. No way.

Taking one swig after another, he walks across the room, paying attention to everyone around him. For a brief moment, he sees Suga's room mate, Asahi-san, looking just as confused as Daichi is. He's sat on the couch, looking uncomfortable as a shorter guy with dyed hair throws an arm around his neck. A bottle of liquor is passed around. Swig after swig, it gets to them and the short guy takes one too and gives it over to Asahi. The latter reluctantly drinks too and everyone around him cheers.

Daichi turns his head away and decides to look outside.

“Is there a balcony around here?” he asks a girl nearby. She looks him up and down, a scowl on her face. He's suddenly even more uncomfortable.

“That way, through the door,” she says, her tone dismissive. “Don't see the point though, you can smoke inside if you want.”

Daichi thanks her and begins pushing his way towards the door she pointed to. He should've probably noticed it earlier, it's all glass and quite wide for just one door. The handle feels cold as his hand pushes down on it.

The cold air hits his lungs sharply and it feels like he's just resurfaced from the depths of the sea. He coughs a few times before looking around.

It was to be expected, there he is, a long, thin cigarette between his parted lips, leaning on the barrier, gaze fixed on a point in the distant horizon. He exhales, the smoke leaves his nose and suddenly Daichi feels like he shouldn't be intruding. The ashen strands diffuse into the chilly breeze and Suga visibly shivers.

But before Daichi even moves, Suga turns around and notices him.

“So you are here after all,” he says, his voice flat. Daichi nods, cursing himself in his head. He leans on the barriers next to him and sighs.

“Didn't want to disturb you,” Daichi admits, looking at the sky, imitating Suga's pose. “You looked very peaceful.”

“Ah, don't mind at all,” Suga replies quickly. He fidgets around for a little while, his cigarette still stuck between his lips. With a quick glance towards Daichi, he tips it. The ash falls to the ground, seeming to melt into the tired floor as the breeze whisks it away.

“You're not with any of the others? Dancing, drinking?” Suga asks quietly and to Daichi it seems dismissive. He feels a spark licking at his throat and suddenly he feels he shouldn't have intruded, he should have gone with Kuroo and drink himself to death.

“Suppose I didn't feel like it,” he says, “Kuroo tried to convince me, but I guess he's a little more outgoing.”

Lie.

“Manipulation is at the core of our social interactions,” Suga says, tearing his eyes away from Daichi, his smile wide and it seems almost painful, as if his face was paralysed in that one expression. “Don't worry about it.”

Daichi ignores the statement. Was he referring to Kuroo, or his own lie?

Suga sits on the barrier and looks down.

“We're on the fifth floor,” he says, every syllable slow and calculated. Daichi fights off the urge to grab him by the jacket and pull him off the railing. What was that even supposed to mean?

“Yeah, I suppose we are,” Daichi answers at last. His head feels numb as he glances over at Suga.

Suga's fingers are clenched tight in fists. His eyes continuously averted. Lip a straight line.

Vulnerable.

Daichi finds himself at a loss for words, his mind grasping for any thoughts at all. They flood in, half-formed and raw and he feels like his heart is hammering into his ribcage, about to snap every bone, one by one.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Suga hums a tune Daichi faintly recognises, but refuses to listen to.

“Why were you there really? Down that road. Three AM.” Daichi asks, his words carefully picked.

Suga doesn't answer. Instead he grinds the cigarette butt with his heel again and reaches for another one.

“Ignoring me won't do anything, Sugawara-san,” Daichi remarks, feeling a flame suppressed in his stomach.

Flick of the lighter. Inhale. Exhale. And there it is.

Another wide smile. It's full of cracks and polite deceit and it looks as unnatural as a smile can possibly look.

“Does it matter?” he asks, his eyes squeezed shut. “I felt like a walk would be a good idea.”

“I suppose that you're right,” Daichi says slowly; his eyes are fixed on the dark night ahead of them. His hands are still fidgety – they dance around the railing as if they were playing a symphony and he was the conductor. Except he's not, he's constantly numb and tired and perhaps sometimes has enough. “Sometimes walks help you clear your mind.”

“They usually don't,” Suga cuts him off. He's standing still, motionless at ease, ceaseless in motion. His head is raised, but his eyes drop down. He is an enigma, Daichi notes. A force close to explosion. A supernova waiting to happen.

Daichi stretches out his hand, but before he reaches his arm, Suga moves back. He's not at an edge anymore; he's amidst the ashen storm.

“Don't touch me!” he snarls, retreating towards the corner of the barrier and to Daichi he seems like a caged animal, helpless and frustrated.

Daichi lifts up his arms, moving back. “Not gonna do a thing, don't worry.”

Suga regards him with a weary, beaten look.

“I hope you sleep better again,” Suga blurts out, throwing out his lit cigarette to the floor, forgotten. He pulls his jacket tighter around him. “So you don't walk out halfway through the night and get pushed about by absolute strangers.”

“That's not...” Daichi stumbles halfway across his thought as Suga takes a step towards the door. “No, wait.”

“What.” It's not a question.

“Let's take a walk.”

Suga stares at him suspiciously as if Daichi tipped poison into his dinner.

For some reason, Daichi feels like the time has stopped. The dark eyes piercing him to the core, enticing, dangerous, almost primal. They're on him and he feels his insides tying into a knot, tight and uncomfortable.

And then he sees him nod.

* * *

 

They leave the party together, stumbling to synchronise again. The air is just as cold and this time, even though they both are wearing scarves and Daichi's wearing a warmer coat, they're both shivering.

“Did you mean to just drag me out here for an interrogation, Sawamura-san?” Suga asks bitterly, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.

Daichi is silent. It takes him more than a few moments to respond. “Not at all.”

Suga seems bewildered by the idea, his eyes wide and puzzled.

“Everybody goes through things at their own pace,” Daichi explains, eyes fixed in front of him. Their legs are taking them down streets and across strange parks and everything seems to be strangely timeless, melancholic, even though he has no idea what he's supposed to be melancholic about. “That's your pace.”

Suga chews on his bottom lip, eyes wide, unblinking.

And suddenly he laughs again, and it might, or might not be a happier one.

Daichi smirks.

The smirk widens, when he feels Suga's fingers curling around his hand and he gives them a light squeeze.

Suga's face is hidden beneath the folds of his scarf when he looks over to him. The gaze is still averted, but somehow, it doesn't bother Daichi anymore.

There's no smile on his face, but Daichi would bet that he seems more at peace than the first time it tore him in half.

 


End file.
